


Times of Love

by Rogercat



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Doriath, F/M, First Age, First Time, Loyalty, Marriage, Married Sex, Middle Earth, Rivendell | Imladris, Sex, Third Age, True Love, Valinor, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: A little tale of three different weddings and three couples who marries





	1. True loyality

_ Finduilas and Gwindor                _

 

It was a event which should have happened a long time ago, if she had chosen it herself. Finduilas knew that there was still people here in Valinor who questioned her relationship with that doomed mortal, what kind of nature it really had been between them because of that neither one of the three central characters had been alive and able to tell their version of what had happened in Nargothrond. But he is not here in the blessed realm among the Elves. No, he is long dead and it is her dearest wish to never see him again.                          

 

“You look stunning, my sweet niece.”     

 

Finduilas smiled at her oldest uncle. Finrod was the organizer of this important day, because she once had requested him to help planning the wedding back in the First Age, which had never happened.  

 

“I am glad that aunt Amarië married you when you felt ready for it after your rebirth, so she could help finding the perfect fabrice for me, I think.”

 

Her dress is a soft purple with long sleeves in thin silk and white embroidery, formed to be loose around her body as that is a dress shape she once designed herself. For Finduilas, comfort and practical is key words for her clothing no matter what kind of clothes it is.  

 

“I am ready to give you over to Gwindor as his bride, beloved daughter of mine,” Orodreth spoke, though he had some difficulty to hide the emotions in his voice.    

 

“Father, it is alright if you starts crying, as you can be spared from it during the ceremony. This is a day we all hoped to happen far earlier than today.”

 

Her mother pats her husband on the back. Finduilas could understand why her parents was bit extra emotional today, it is a important day for everyone in the family, even her paternal grandparents Finarfin and Eärwen who have allowed the wedding to be a simple family affair at the grand villa owned by Finrod rather than a grand event at the royal court in Tirion, because neither Finduilas or Gwindor are comfortable to be in center of a such grand crowd of people again after their first lives.      

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

The sight of Gwindor in his white and light peach coloured wedding robes, where he was waiting with his own family members, made Finduilas blush in joy. He looked so much better now after rebirth, with his hair its rightful brown colour instead of grey and his face no longer looking like the aged among Men. And his body is healthy and strong, with both hands instead of missing one.

 

“The fairest of them all, my loved warrior princess.” 

 

On the way to the central cherry tree in the garden where the wedding vows would be spoken, they both bowed in greeting to each side of their families. For Finduilas, it was a bit for a extra joy in that all three of her uncles can be there on this day, Finrod and Angrod had promised to be there but there had been some worries about Aegnor because a wedding might remind him of what he had missed with his mortal lover Andreth. But he had came in spite of the what-ifs, saying that he could not be so rude as missing the wedding of his niece. 

 

“Andreth would have wanted me to be there, so I am doing this in her honor,” he explained before anyone could ask.  

 

“I would have loved her to be present as well, uncle, and in the role of your wife, in the first known marriage between a Elf and a Mortal.”

 

He did actually smile sadly at her kind words, though a echo of his old friendly smile was hinted as well. Finduilas had only met Andreth three times over the mortal woman's life, but it had been enough to see why her uncle had been so in love with her. Even if they never had married, Andreth's name would live on forever, not because of some doomed fate on one of them but for a shared, mutual love between her and Aegnor. Those few in the family who had met Andreth when she lived, all agreed on that she would have suited into the family very well despite that she was a mortal.    

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

The wedding night is what they both had longed for, more than the very wedding ceremony, for it was only by consummate the marriage that they could finally prove that all the rumours about a romance between Findulias and Túrin are just false rumours, created by those who had been a bit too deep into the “forbidden romance” part of the relationship between Lúthien and Beren. No, the mortal man had been too arrogant for her taste in a lover and in her eyes almost from the first meeting, his pride had blinded him for the fact that Nargothrond was a very different place than Doriath, where he had been a foster son of Thingol. 

 

No, Gwindor had kept her heart even as he had changed from the harsh life as a slave in Angband, despite a understandable worry that their love might not be as strong as before his captivity. Their rebirth in Valinor had proven that it was still as strong, if possible burning even more than before simply from knowing that they were together again.  

 

“No one to separate us again, never again….” Gwindor whispered tenderly with longing in his voice, touching her face with both hands. 

 

“No, we belong to each others, forever.” Finduilas agreed, kissing him on the lips in response. 

 

There was almost a desperation in their heated kisses, the struggle to remove their clothes they had worn during the wedding ceremony as they moved over to the large bed they would have this night. Surprising enough, they had been encouraged to actually try out some gentle kissing and not so fully innocent touches on their bodies before the wedding, just to not it being so awkward once the wedding night came. Of course, they had kept it to a acceptable level and not crossed the line where they would take out the wedding night completely before the big day, given how awkward it would have been to explain to their families if Finduilas got with child and the wedding had to be rushed up to hide that not so little misstep.   

 

“Oh..!” 

 

Finduilas felt the inner heat in her body grow, as Gwindor pleasured her with his mouth in kissing and licking at her most sacred female part, his hands keeping her thighs apart so he could reach better. Then, when he started to use his fingers to prepare her, it was like she was burning from the inside. 

 

“Gwindor…. _ please _ …. _ I want you _ ….!”

 

She knew that he arched for her as well, pressing against her hip where he laid at her side. It was impossible to hide, not when Gwindor moved to lay over Finduilas so their most intimate body parts pressed together before like how they had done as part of their secret practice. 

 

“Finduilas...my  **_Faelivrin_ ** …!”

 

There was no pain as he entered her, all the secret training with his fingers helping her to become somewhat used to have something down there. And most of all, Finduilas felt a  _ trumpf  _ in her heart as they were fully joined, Gwindor as deeply as he could be inside her. This was the husband she always had loved, someone Túrin could never become.  

 

“...let us become one…” she whispered, and Gwindor started to gently move at her request after keeping himself still until that he knew that she was not in pain. They had both been warriors in the past and knew that neither was made of glass, yet this tenderness, this first moment of true love-making between them as a married couple, they wanted to be sweet. 

 

“The name of any child born which might be born from this night, my beloved princess…. _ Gúriel _ for a daughter….and  _ Sadorion _ for a son…!” Gwindor gasped between moans of passion, which Finduilas felt as very fitting names for their future children. A proof of that they had stayed faithful to each other despite everything that had happened.  

 

Soon enough, they were joined once again in mutual pleasure, as he cried out her name softly against her neck and she held him even closer, not only by her arms around his shoulders but by wrapping her legs around his hips while his seed entered her. 

 

“We will wait for our child to be begotten, even if it is happening not tonight….one day we will feel our firstborn.”  

 

It was a promise they intended to hold, together for the rest of their lives.  

 


	2. Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimloth helps her much younger husband to be less scared of what will happen

_ Dior and Nimloth _

 

Most people at the royal court in Menegroth found it strange that the son of Lúthien and Beren already was old enough for marriage, since for them the age of twenty-seven years was still the age of a child. Yet since Dior followed the growth pattern of the Second-born, and was born to mortal parents since Lúthien had given up her immortality for a second life with her husband, it was only natural to think that he likely was mortal as well. Which meant that he could not wait for too long before he was far too old and frail for marriage and fathering children. 

 

It was by pure luck that Lúthien and Beren found out that their son was very much in love with a kinswoman, Nimloth, and she had mutual feelings, yet they had not dared to speak about it to the rest of the royal family of Doriath because of the age difference between them. Not that this detail had stopped the wedding from happening anyway. 

 

Because this was the second royal wedding in Doriath before even thirty years had passed, Dior and Nimloth found themselves unable to really control the wedding plans. Yes, they managed to prevent a design on their wedding clothes that would be far too extravagant for their tastes, but it was still hard to stop Lúthien when she had her ideas about the whole event. And then Beren and Thingol entered a disagreement about whatever to keep the wedding in full Doriath standards, or adding in some wedding details the race of Men did on a such important day for a betrothed couple, for Beren wanted his son to remember his lineage from the House of Bëor as well. 

 

Finally, Dior and Nimloth flat out threatened to elope in the middle of night and refusing the whole wedding all together, if their relatives did not stop acting like they was the main persons in the whole wedding deal without asking the young couple of what they wanted. That threat, doubled up by that Dior and Nimloth pretending to be caught by a few servants in a act of climbing out through a window with a few travel bags filled with some clothes and food at a time when many others had gone to sleep, had the desired effect, at least in term of how it would be a big scandal in Doriath if the young heir and his bride-to-be vanished before the big day the whole kingdom looked forwards to. 

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

“About time that we could escape from the well-wishers! It have been a fine day, but it is pretty exhausting to be in the center of all attention all day…” Dior groaned before he collapsed down on the bed, once the door to the wedding chamber had been shut behind them. Not that Nimloth could blame him for being tired, they had wanted a small wedding but no, Lúthien had insisted on a grand one and Thingol naturally had agreed to it. 

 

“Shall we try and remove all the jewelry first before anything else? I think we both can move better without it?”   

 

“Sure,” Dior commented and sat up on the covers before he flung off the silver crown with emeralds from his head, making it land on the seat of a chair instead and started to remove the ear rings as well. It was not that he was lazy, they really had been weighted down in a amount of wedding jewelry on top of the wedding clothes that made both of them feel like dolls instead of living beings. Nimloth took off the bridal crown, a fine item shaped like blooming flowers in small gemstones, placing it neatly on a small table where she also placed the heavy necklace and earrings too. 

 

“I can understand that she wanted us both to look our best, but I think she was a bit too eager about it…” 

 

She began to help Dior remove the jacket on his formal attire, a fine masterwork in a forest green colour to bring out the chestnut brown colour on his hair. Perhaps as an echo of his Maiarin heritage from Melian, his eyes was a mix of stormy grey and silver. Nimloth herself wore a tea-green dress with some gold pattern in the shape of leaves, but otherwise had refused the dress to be anything grander.  

 

“How could you even breathe in that high collar on the dress? I know that this style is meant for weddings, but it is so different from your everyday dresses,” Dior wondered, using a finger to check so there really was some space between the collar and her throat. His fingernail did tickle a little against her skin at the touch. 

 

“I have worn similar formal dresses since I was young,” she laughed, though not to wound his pride as she seated herself beside him. She knew that Dior seemed strong and confident at first look, but in reality he was haunted by social anxiety, with emotional vulnerability few knew about. He was the first known child between a Elf and a Man, yet since he was the only one known, no one really know what to expect of him. He was the heir of Thingol, yes, but as far as everyone knew, it was only a formal title because Dior could very well be the one to die before his grandfather for being mortal.  

 

He smiled a little sadly, as if he felt relief over it. Somewhat hesitant, Dior touched one lock of her deep golden brown hair between his fingers. It was a simple touch, showing that he was not really sure on what to do. He was a adult by the standards of Men, old enough to be married and having children since several years back but his insecurity made Dior nervous about taking the first step. He knew that their marriage had to be consummated at some point, waiting for too long would risk his maternal family start nagging about the arrival of any future child he might have with Nimloth. 

 

“Do you want me to help undress you?” Nimloth offered, which he agreed on. She was gentle, taking her time so he would be a little more relaxed. For now they kept their underwear on once she also had undressed, there was no reason to hurry up. 

 

“I...am not really sure on how…”  

 

He stopped, too ashamed to admit it openly. but Nimloth had heard some useful hints from a couple of helpful maids in the service of her parents if there was a such situation. 

 

“Lay down on your back against the pillows. I think that I know how to deal with that little problem for you.” 

 

Dior obeyed, allowing his wife to take control over the situation. He was a bit tense, shivering slightly as they slowly became naked as the day their had been born when their respective underwear was removed to join the rest of the wedding clothes on the floor. But he responded well on her kisses by returning them, even feeling brave enough to touching her bare skin with his hands though he seemed scared of touching her any further down than her back.

 

“It is fine if you are scared, it is never easy when you are a beginner on something.” 

 

A logic which was hard to disagree on. When Nimoth felt that it was enough foreplay for her, she started to gently massage Dior's mandom to become harder under her hand. It would be cruel to be too rough on that touch because she had heard about how it could become painful, and ruin the mood as well. A vial of oil was also necessary, not just to smooth things up but to enrich the mood by some massage for them both.     

 

“Unlike what people claim, we ladies likes to be on top at times rather than just being passive or hoping that a baby will be begotten.”

 

“Eh?”  

 

Dior was not really sure of what Nimloth meant by that, he knew that babies often were a result of love-making between a married couple but this was not something his parents or other teachers had mentioned. Seeing his confusion, Nimloth added yet another thing on her metal list to enlighten her much younger husband about. Not hopelessly sheltered from the realities of the world, no that he was not, but sometimes Nimloth really wanted to have a honestly serious talk with her new parents-in-law about the various disfavors they gave their only child without really meaning to do so. 

 

Not daring to move, Dior watched as Nimloth straddled his hips, then used a hand to guide him right to her female parts. It was clear that he was far more scared than her, fearing to hurt her because this had never been part of his varied training before, that he had been raised to remain chaste until the wedding night because it would be below the respectability of a royal prince to sire illegitimate children from short-lived relationships before marriage. 

 

There was a slight discomfort at the first contact as Nimloth lowered herself down on Dior, but none of the pain so many ignorant maidens made a tale of terror about because they did not know how a marriage actually was consummated. 

 

“See? The first step is never easy to make, for anyone…” she managed to smile, especially as Dior actually moved her hands from his shoulders so he instead had her closer face to face when she laid herself down on his chest.

 

“I like it better when we are close,” he breathed, trying his best to not do any sudden movements because he really wanted to enjoy the new feeling of her inner heat around him. Even it ended rather quickly just from Nimloth testing to move her hips in a circle and Dior losing control over his body from that, they both agreed that the wedding night could have gone far worse. And at least they could honestly say that yes, they had consummated their marriage. 

 

As they cuddled up together to try and get some actual sleep after a very long day, Dior asked:

 

“You still agreeing on that we will set up our own home at Lanthir Lamath and raise our family there? I am not exactly in the mood to live with my parents all my life even if that is the custom among Men that daughters move into the house of their husbands at marriage and the sons remain, or at least the oldest son who often is the heir.” 

 

Nimloth sighed somewhere at his side, where they now had blown out the last candles so the bedchamber was in darkness. 

 

“Your parents are nice, but I would rather not upset Lúthien with a quarrel about who is going to be the mistress of the household when it is both a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law living in the same home. And the possible nagging for grandchildren would cause conflict between all four of us, since the two of us want to wait a little bit and simply enjoy a child-free period in marriage before the natural results of a marriage bed arrive.” 

 

Seeing no reason to ask any further questions, Dior rolled over so he could place a arm over his wife, then fell asleep against her. The feeling of his breath against her skin, made Nimloth soon follow him into sleep as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I headcanon that Dior was raised pretty strictly by his parents in terms of sexual behavior. As a only child and royal heir, I think it would have been a huge scandal among the Elves of Doriath if he had been found out in a sexual relationship before marriage, because of the high risk of illegitimate children born to a woman that would not be a fitting match for him in social rank and all that. Pretty sure that he also must have suffered from that he was the only known Half-elven in Beleriand from the time of his own birth until that his own three children was born, no one would likely have known how his dual heritage of Elf and Mannish blood was going to affect his life or how long he would live. 
> 
> Dior's wedding robes are inspired by this, but in a more forest green colour
> 
> http://tiny.cc/qo8v2y
> 
> Inspiration for Nimloth's wedding dress 
> 
> http://tiny.cc/6o8v2y


	3. The sweetness of night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrian and Elrond finally weds

_ Elrond and Celebrian _

 

It was 109 years since the Third Age of the Sun had started. Some wounds in the heart of both Middle-Earth and its Free peoples had healed over time, others would remain scarred.   

 

“Elronnnnnd! Elrond, come out at once! I have a surprise for you that can not wait!” a female voice called from outside the window to his office. Elrond, who had been busy with some minor paperwork he wanted to get rid of before the wedding in only seven days, naturally wondered what his bride-to-be had for plans this time. 

 

Naturally, it was a big surprise for him. 

 

“Ada?!” he exclaimed at seeing who Celebrían carried in front of her in the saddle. It was indeed Maglor, looking pretty worse to wear in terms of being in a desperate need of a long, warm bath and a carefully chosen haircut to fix the very neglected hair, along with a good amount of food to not make him look so starved. 

 

“Elrond…?” 

 

Maglor did not seem all that focused.

 

“I think he is dehydrated even after giving him the remaining water in my waterskin at finding him and even more on the way here, I found him in a area where it was very little water to find. He even mistook me for my grandmother Eärwen at first look, since I have inherited her soft curls on the hair,” Celebrían explained as she helped Elrond get Maglor down on the ground.   

 

“I see...I will try and see if I can do something so he gets better, do not expect me at dinner tonight, at least.” 

 

It was all Elrond could promise right now. 

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X

 

On the morning of the wedding, Maglor was more clear in his mind and had recovered somewhat. He was still too weak from malnutrition to be out of bed for longer periods, but there was no way that he intended to miss the wedding of his foster son. 

 

“It is sad that Gil-galad is not here. I remember how he often joked about hosting the wedding for me and Celebrían once we finally went more open about liking each other,” Elrond said while his future father-in-law helped him to dress, alongside Erestor and Glorfindel. 

 

“Had the gotten his way, the two of you would have been married a long time ago. Galadriel and I only managed to stop any such plans thanks to reminding him that it is the young couple in question who starts it. Then again, he was one of those Elves who never married, and few was brave enough to ask him why after he had mentioned the fates of his own grandfather and father as the main reason.”

 

There was a similar sadness in Celeborn's voice. Gil-galad had only been a distant relative through marriage as the son of Galadriel's cousin but he had felt the pain of loss all the same.

 

Once they was done with dressing him and brushing his dark hair so it laid nicely along his clothes, Elrond took a look in the larger mirror on the pale green robes he wore. It was a much simpler version of the formal robes which had been worn by the bridegroom at weddings in Doriath. This was a different era, traditions and customs had changed when new generations was born and grew up in a world much different from the First Age. 

 

“You look so much alike lord Dior right now…”

 

“My grandfather?” Elrond asked. It was not that his maternal grandfather was forgotten by history, but he sadly tended to be overshadowed by his famed parents and that the fall of Doriath had happened under his rule. Not a embarrassment to the family, but sadly not remembered for wisdom or any deeds which made him stand out outside that he had managed the unbelievable of actually killing Celegorm in a duel where they both had slain each other. And Maglor had confirmed that his brother had always been more difficult to even harm in battle because he would use old teachings learned from Oromë in Valinor. A dangerous hunter who had turned into a fey being by the time of the Second Kinslaying. 

 

“Yes. I think one of the great tragedies of his young life is that he never got a chance to grow into a ruler of his own manner, that he died far too young to place his mark on the map of history that would not be linked to his family tree or the Kinslaying where he met his end. He grew up in a time when no other Half-elves had been born between a couple of a Elf and a Second Born, and I truly think that he suffered much from loneliness because of that. And nothing brought him more joy than whatever time he could spend with his family between his royal duties.” 

 

Elrond nodded in understanding. The burden of Kingship must have felt even heavier for Dior because he had never been actually trained for that rule, being forced to learn it during his first weeks as King of Doriath. Imladris was not a kingdom, yet Elrond knew how it felt to be a leader in worried times. 

 

“Come, the ceremony will not start without the bride and her groom.”

  
  


Out in the vast garden, Elrond smiled at seeing Maglor sitting in a chair for himself a bit away from the other guests. At least his foster father was present and no one dared to attack him, based on that Erestor had a sword ready for defense if someone tried something stupid. Glorfindel was the better warrior, but Erestor was a master of a very successful death glare which promised pain if they did not stay away from Maglor.

 

Soon Celebrían arrived to take her place beside Elrond for the vows, but she stunned everyone with her dress:

 

She had aimed for a newer style that broke away from a classical wedding dress for a Elven bride with lineage or cultural ties from Doriath in the past Ages here in Middle-Earth; creating a dress which had a rounded neckline instead of a classic cut where more of the upper body would be covered in thin silk below the jewelry. It was a one-piece, unlined gown made of pale green panné velvet, with gold beaded metallic trim at the neck and the upper sleeves, and a slight train which followed where she was walking. The pale green sleeves had been made of embroidered chiffon and edged with metallic gold trim. With her silver hair, Celebrían could almost have seemed the most beautiful bride seen in the last centuries.   

 

Elrond was almost too stunned in surprise over her beauty to first hear a gentle reminder to focus on what he was supposed to do. A careful poke in his back helped him to get back to the ground and out of his momentary daydream.

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X 

 

Their shared chamber was a vast suit Elrond had ordered to be built when their betrothal was all but promised to happen. He had requested it to be filled with some of the finest, sweetest-smelling flowers and herbs from the gardens around Imladris to create a feeling of romance. 

 

“Oh, they have done a lovely work here for us tonight!” Celebrían smiled at all the flowers and lightened candles the servants had left there. 

 

“Yes, they have,” Elrond agreed, his fingers followed the soft cotton fabric in the bedspread, decorated with stitched flowers in soft colours. This was at least going to be a pleasant night in nice surroundings. 

 

Since they had already changed into their nightgown and nightshirt in two different chambers before being allowed into this chamber, they did not have to worry about taking off many layers of clothing. Rather than starting anything hot stuff right away, they chose to enjoy a cup of tea together. 

 

Somehow Elrond was not surprised to find one particular book hidden under the soft pillows. It was not what the Elves would view as erotic, only a guide for Elven adolescents which explained a little more in detail on what happened in love-making. And of course, Erestor had been kind enough to mark a few pages which “should be nice choices for the wedding night” as he had written in a tiny note hidden between the pages, many believed the Chief Counsellor to be more or less asexual but in reality Erestor simply liked his work over romance and proved himself able to deal with Glorfindel whatever the reborn hero of Gondolin teased him a little too much about being married to his work position instead of a real wife of flesh and blood. 

 

“Shall we see what Erestor suggests here?” 

 

As a healer to both Elves, Men and even a few Dwarves to everyone's surprise, Elrond had gotten his fair amount of knowledge of sex and how it worked. He was not prudish about it, but he preferred to not know too much about the sex lives of his patients because he viewed it as something private.   

 

“Perhaps this one for use in consummate our marriage? You know that I love cuddling, after all,” Celebrían said after some looking through the pages, pointing to a position. 

 

“Yeah, it seem fitting for us.”

 

What was wrong with trying a position that was a well known one but not the one normally used in the first night of a marriage? 

 

Under giggles and kisses, they managed to remove their sleeping wear and then lay close face-to-face in the bed. Tender fingers touching their skin, kisses on various erotic zones on the bodies. And naturally a massage to show affection between them, with Elrond slowly going further down with his fingers. The sounds Celebrían made as the first discomfort eventually changed into pleasure soon, she had touched herself often in daydreams about Elrond, but his actual fingers were a bit different from her own. As a healer, Elrond had needed to touch the sacred place of females before for various reasons, though this was the first he did so in a more sexual way.     

 

“Shall we try?” Elrond offered, holding a vial of oil ready in his free hand.  Nodding, Celebrían placed herself in a good position on her side, him taking a similar one behind him after using some oil on them both. Neither one was really surprised by that it was a little tricky for him to find the right aim, it was hard to see. 

 

She did expect some minor discomfort, especially as how she was stretched open far wider than she ever had been before, but it was a  _ good _ discomfort which vanished pretty quickly because Elrond did not enter her very deeply. The key which changed her from a unwed maiden into a wedded and bedded wife, to a lady who would be blessed with children at some point. 

 

“Does it hurt?” her husband asked, ever so thoughtful about others, rarely about himself. One of the tasks she would take on, to make him try and care a little better for his own health or there would be extra work needed to try and beget their future children.  

 

“It is bearable. Keep going.”   

 

She meant it, and Elrond obeyed her request when she asked him to try thrusting into her a little deeper, or at least how deeply he managed. The penetrating was not deep in this position, which had been why they had chosen it. To her delight, Elrond hugged her closer by his own will once it was over and his seed entered her. It was well enough passion for this night. Even if they would not end up with a child begotten on the wedding night, it would still be a sweet memory of how their marriage and life together as husband and wife had started in this lovely summer.      

 

“You have some very good servants, brave enough to help out despite that some people might find this part of marriage to not be something to talk about openly.” 

 

He chuckled at her words. 

 

“Erestor is the son of some followers to Maglor and Maedhros from the very beginning, they encouraged people to tell whatever there was a problem so it could be solved. Glorfindel....well, there is some truth in that Turgon followed a more strict view on marriage and its related part in bed, to the point that he would be viewed as very old-fashioned prudish today if he had lived. I think Glorfindel either does not want to admit that he was affected by his former King's view on marriage, or fails to understand that not all young, unwed ladies fantasize about marrying a hero from past Ages.”

 

Celebrían rolled her eyes in annoyance. Glorfindel was handsome yes, but she had always found his manner of death to be on the more foolish side, because he had failed the common sense of setting up his hair before battle instead of just letting it hang free! Really, a simple ponytail was not that hard to make as long as you had a small string to tie up the hair with. 

 

Elrond senses her feelings though the marriage bond between their souls, and had a good guess why. To his great surprise, Glorfindel had found that Turgon's great-grandson was  _ NOT _ impressed with the golden Balrog slayer breaking a such basic safety linked to his own body, and almost half their first meeting had actually ended with Elrond giving a stunned Glorfindel a long rant about the danger of keeping one's hair free in battle.

 

“As I was quick to point out to him, a enemy grabbing hold of your own hair is a literal invitation to be pulled close and be killed very fast...”    

 

Suddenly there was a crash from a vase breaking somewhere outside the chamber, and the shrill voice of Erestor, who sounded like he really had lost his hard-tested patience now: 

 

“ **_THAT'S IT!! I do not care that you are a hero of old, Glorfindel, no one calls me a ornery bookworm who can not hold a sword! Now that golden mane of you are going because you seem to need a reminder of how you actually died!!_ ** ”

 

A terrified scream was heard from Glorfindel somewhere further away, sounding like he tried to escape from Erestor and whatever the other Elf planned to use in order to cut off his famed hair. 

 

Neither Elrond or Celebrían was in the right mood for leaving the marriage bed for a scene which happened anyway whatever Glorfindel enjoyed a little too much wine and failed to keep control over what he said around the very people he might end up insulting.

 

“Can we remain under the covers? Nice and warm in here together, no need to get up before morning since the household can survive without you for a night...or many,” she suggested with a sleepy smile. 

 

Yes, they would not leave the bed until late in the following morning. The servants had helped Maglor back to his guest chamber after the dinner and the not so small threat from the newly-married couple had ensured that he would be left alone in peace.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am of the belief that Gil-galad is the son of Fingon, and my own HC for him remaining unmarried is that he did not want his own children to suffer the pain of losing a father at a young age like Gil-galad himself did at only 22 years of age when Fingon died in Nírnaeth Arnoediad. 
> 
> And yes, the wedding dress Celebrían is meant to be the one Arwen wears at her wedding to Aragorn in Return of the King, because I love the idea of mother and daughter wearing the same dress on a such important day of their lives, and because I think Arwen wanted a part of her mother present at her wedding after that Celebrían had sailed to Valinor:
> 
> https://www.briellecostumes.com/elves/
> 
> While Elrond's wedding robes are inspired by this, in a slightly darker green colour than the wedding dress shared by Celebrían and Arwen:
> 
> http://tiny.cc/4s8v2y

**Author's Note:**

> Gúriel is a Sindarin translation of a Quenya name which means Daughter of Heart, while Sadorion means Son of Steadfast/Trusty/Loyal One in a such language translation. I thought it fitting in the theme of how the lives of Gwindor and Finduilas happened in canon from Silmarillion 
> 
> Finduilas' bride dress is inspired by this, though less form-fitting
> 
> http://tiny.cc/mi8v2y
> 
> and Gwindor's wedding robes from this
> 
> http://tiny.cc/aj8v2y


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